Stay With Me Tonight
by sweet.aria
Summary: Because 5-year-olds have existential crises, too.


**A/N: I was listening to Secondhand Serenade and as this song played, I felt this story unfold in my head. Here's my take on how Helga created that first shrine. The lyrics, while slightly altered, are from "Your Call" by Secondhand Serenade, as well as the title. Alas, "Hey Arnold!" doesn't belong to me either, as it is the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett. Lucky dog.  
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**Stay with Me, Tonight**

_Ask yourself, why was I born? What am I doing on this earth? What is my path? Remember, listeners… that path…it isn't always easy to find. You may search your whole life for it. And yes, you'll stumble… you'll… fall, you'll stray off of it and find yourself in a forest so thick that you feel hopelessly lost. When that happens, don't lose heart and settle for less than what you deserve. Don't settle for just existing because that's…that's a half-life. Always in the shadows. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. And..I just want to say, before I go, I just want to say that we are put on this earth for a reason. We are…yes, I believe that wholeheartedly. Each one of us was created with a purpose, a journey that we must complete, and a lesson to learn. I hope, dear listeners, that you do more than exist. Think about that for a moment. Do more than exist. _

Helga turned off the radio and lay still in her bed. The oranges and pinks and yellows of the sun setting danced on her bedspread. She watched them for a minute and realized hadn't thought about why she was here on Earth. The stork had brought her to Mommy and Daddy, and that was that, really. But to be here…for a reason? Was it something like figuring out why the colors of the sunset was that way, and that a magical green beam could be seen just seconds before sunset? It was her favorite moment in the whole world. The green was deep and beautiful, but gone too soon. Or was it figuring out all the numbers that go into a pie? She had heard Olga reciting numbers for hours and hoped that wasn't why she was here. Helga decided she didn't want to wait until she was the ripe ol' age of 17 to figure out why she was born. If she figured it out at 5, she reasoned, she could get it out of her way and rest easy.

Helga slid out of her bed and walked almost noiselessly out of her room and to Olga's door. She knocked, three short raps. "Olga? Olga? Olga?"

She heard a sigh. "Come in, Baby Sister!" Olga trilled in her melodic voice. For the life of her, she didn't understand why her parents loved hearing it; it was like their siren song. Helga stood on her tiptoes to open the door.

"Baby sister, only one time will do! Must you knock and call my name _three _times?" Olga gently scolded. She was seated at her vanity, brushing out her long blonde hair. Helga watched, almost transfixed. She hoped that when she grew older, she was pretty like that and that boys would like her and want to hold her hand like all the boys wanted to do with Olga.

"Sorry, Olga, I just had to ask you a question. You're the smartest person I know, after Phoebe, so you probably know the answer." Helga tried a little flattery, knowing it would go a long way.

"Oh, ask away, Baby Sister!" Olga preened under the compliment. She began to apply her eyeliner, leaning forward towards the mirror to do so.

"Um…why were you born?"

Olga dropped her eyeliner and frowned. "Why would you ask such a rude question? I'm so disappointed in you!" She folded her arms and waited for an explaination.

"Well, the man on the radio said that everyone was born for a reason, y'know, to do something with their life. So I wanted to know if you figured out yours yet?" Helga hastily explained. At five years old, she knew that making Olga upset in any way would have disastrous results for her. Helga fidgeted in place and bit her lip, waiting.

Her sister breathed a sigh of relief. Olga brought her hand up dramatically to her chest. "Oh, Baby Sister! I'm _flattered_ you came to me with this question!" She turned back towards the mirror and fumbled for a lipstick. "Hmmm….I think that my purpose is to teach others! Willing all those awards proves that I'm intelligent, so naturally, I want others to know that I can pass it on to others who are lacking in cognitive development, such as yourself!" She flashed her award-winning smile to Helga in the mirror, the same one that caused boys and men to stop in their tracks, Bob to reach his yearly quota of beepers in a matter of minutes, and Helga to be completely cloaked in its shadows.

"Oh," she said softly. "Do…do you know why _I_ was born?" Helga looked at Olga hopefully.

"No, that's something you should ask Mummy, _she_ brought you in this world, against everyone's better judgement," she said airily, mussing her hair so that it was just so. She rose from the vanity in a cloud of perfume and walked out of the door and down the steps.

"I thought the stork brought me?" Helga replied, thoroughly confused. She followed in her sisters' wake, coughing at the cloying scent. They reached the landing.

"Oops! Of course, he did, sweetie," Olga smiled again and patted her cheek. "Daddy, I'm going to the movies with…Misty!" she shouted towards her father in the living room.

Bob Pataki swiftly got out of the chair and to Olga's side. Helga blinked. She didn't think her Daddy could move so fast.

"Olga, sweetie, here's an extra twenty in case what I gave you earlier isn't enough," Bob cooed. Helga realized that he never spoke to her in that way. Maybe it was because she hadn't won any awards yet.

Olga hugged her father. "Oh Daddy, you're so gracious! I'll be back before...10:30?" she said hopefully, her eyes pleading.

"Sure thing, hon," Bob said easily, and made his way back to the recliner.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Olga replied, honey in her voice. She waltzed out the door, all sweetness and light, and Helga for a moment, she swore she saw a smirk on Olga's face. Must have been a trick of the light.

…

Helga walked towards the dark living room where her father reclined and watched the pregame analysis. It was football season, and his snacks were piled around him in anticipation of the kickoff.

"Daddy?" She whispered, laying her head against the armrest.

He grunted.

"Daddy?" Helga tugged at his pants.

Bob's eyes was glued to the television.

"Daddy?" she gently shook his arm. Maybe he hadn't heard her.

Helga climbed into his lap and turned towards him. "Daddy, why was I born?"

"Apparently to piss me off and interrupt the game!" Bob roared, and pushed Helga off of his lap. She fell, hard, on the floor and hit the coffee table with her head. Pork rinds fell to the floor in a shower.

"Criminey! Girl, if you don't shut the fu…"

"I just asked a question, Daddy!" she whimpered. Suddenly she was dangling off the floor a good six inches. Bob held Helga by the collar and looked into her crystal blue eyes with his chilly grey ones.

"Stop. Calling. Me. Daddy. Right now. I don't give a _damn_ why you were born. I don't even know _how_ it happened, seeing as I didn't touch that woman for _months_. You wanna ask questions, go to Miriam. Understand?" he growled. Helga gulped and nodded. Bob released her and she fell to the floor beside the recliner in a heap.

"Get me some pork rinds, girl," he waved his hand dismissively.

…

Helga limped into the kitchen towards her mother. Miriam was sitting on a stool, gazing off into the distance. She clutched her mug of coffee like it was a lifeline. Helga held back, almost not wanting to break the silence.

"Mommy?"

Miriam jumped, sloshing her coffee on her hands. "Helga, don't startle me like that!" She went to clean up the mess.

Helga hung her head. "Sorry, Mommy," she whispered. She moved to get some paper towels and help her mother. The two got the little spill cleaned up, and Helga screwed up the courage to ask her mother the question she needed to know.

"Mommy, why was I born?" Helga gazed at her mother. She looked so tired, Helga thought. Miriam's hair was tangled and knotted, and her eyeglasses askew. Sleep from her nap was crusted into the corners of eyes that mirrored Helga's. She looked down at her youngest daughter, who looked at her so trustingly. Miriam's eyes teared up.

"Honey, I don't know. I honestly don't know." Miriam buried her face in her hands.

Helga bit her lip, not sure what to say. "Mommy, if you're sad, you can make a smoothie. It makes you feel better, right? 'Cuz you told me it was your medicine? So maybe you should take it?" She twisted the hem of her dress in her hands, suddenly nervous.

Miriam looked Helga for a minute. Her eyes hardened, and she abruptly went to the sink and poured the coffee down the drain.

"A smoothie. Why the hell not," she muttered, voice empty of any sort of emotion.

…

Helga slipped out the front door quietly. She made her way to Tina Park, the events of the past hour buzzing in her head. She suddenly felt so dizzy, so…

"Helga?"

Oh, that voice.

"Helga!"

Oh, the sweet notes of _his_ voice, clearer than any bell, lovelier than a Mr. Fudgy bar on a hot summer day, more welcome than a double recess. The keeper of her heart, the…

Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground. "Helga, are you alright?" A football shaped head loomed into her view. _Arnold._ Her face took on a lovesick smile.

"Helga, can you hear me?" Arnold's worried voice broke through her fantasies.

"Oh…" Helga couldn't muster up the energy to be mean. "Yeah. I'm okay." She slowly sat up.

"I think you fainted," Arnold sat down in the grass next to her. "I don't know what you are supposed to do when someone faints, I think give them air." He started to wave his hands frantically near Helga's face, and her eyes started to water.

"Can you stop, please?" she whispered. Helga drew her knees to her chest and locked her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes Arnold looked at her, shocked. This was probably the nicest she had been to him.

The two children sat like that for a while before Helga opened her eyes ventured speech. "Arnold?" she said timidly.

Arnold had been staring at her, and when she opened her eyes, a jolt went through him. "Y-yes?" he replied, a little shaken.

"Why were you born?"

"What do you mean?" he questioned her. Helga bit her lip. Everytime she asked this question, it got her into trouble, and she didn't want _Arnold_ to be mad at her, too.

"I heard that everyone is born to do something. Their life has a purpose and a meaning and a lesson to learn. I just wanted to figure out mine, so I'm asking other people to see if they found out and how they found out," she finished softly, lowering her eyes.

Arnold grinned. "That's an easy one, Helga," he said. "I was born to help people. Some people just are, like my parents."

Helga looked up. "Did your parents tell you that?"

He shook his head. "No, but Grandpa says I'm like my dad and he liked to help people, and I do too, so I'm just guessing." He peered at her. "Why were you born?"

"I don't know," Helga said. Her voice sounded so small and lonely to Arnold.

He frowned for a minute, then brightened. "I know! We can ask my Grandpa! He'll know," Arnold said confidently. He stood up and held out his hand. Helga hesitated, and with a small smile, took his hand.

…

Helga squirmed under Phil's stare. Arnold had went into the kitchen with his Grandma and left Helga alone with the man.

"And you want to know what know?" he asked.

"I want to know why I was born. Arnold said that you would know," Helga said. She rested her head on the table; her head was throbbing.

"Did you ask someone else?"

She nodded. "Olga said I should ask Mommy. I asked Da…_Bob…_" Helga corrected herself, "…Bob and he said to get him some pork rinds. A-and to not call him D-daddy. Mommy said I don't know and she looked at me sad and drank her smoothie medicine." She looked up at Phil.

Phil's lips was set in a grim line, and his fists were clinched. Helga thought he looked so scary that she slid out of her chair. "I think I should go. Thank you anyway, Mr. Arnold's Grandpa," she said sadly.

A hand shot out and grabbed her. "Nonsense!" Phil forced a chuckle. He peered at her. "We were just about to eat dinner, weren't we, Pookie?" he turned to his wife, who just entered.

"Yes we were, Eleanor!" she smiled brightly. "It seems like the cowboys are sleeping out in the pastures tonight, so we've got plenty of chow! Did you already eat dinner? We need to fatten you up! When's the last time you ate?"

Helga thought for a moment. "No, I didn't eat dinner yet. Da…Bob forgot to fix me lunch and Mommy was sleep this morning so I ate some cheese. Is that why I didn't feel good?, Mrs. Arnold's Grandma?"

Gertie's smile faltered at the corners for a minute. "Could be, cowpoke! We got some stew and cornbread and that'll stick to your bones, all right!" She turned back to the kitchen, but not before she shot Phil a Look.

Phil smiled at Helga. "We got plenty, so don't worry, Ms. Arnold's Girlfriend!" Helga blushed.

"I do a question for you, little lady." Phil leaned in closer, and lowered his voice. Helga leaned in too.

"Have you ever ate…raspberries?" Phil gulped, a bead of sweat popping up on his brow.

Helga couldn't help but giggle.

…

Stuffed full of homemade stew, cornbread and apple pie (Arnold's grandparents had insisted on seconds and thirds of everything), Helga sighed contendedly. She liked having dinner with Arnold and his grandparents. Gertie had gotten them to sing "Clementine," and she and Phil had gotten into a debate about '_Seasame Street_' v. '_Mr. Roger's Neighborhood_'; after on particularly snappy comeback on Helga's part, Phil doubled over in laugher. "Oh, heh, heh, aren't you a firecracker! You better hold on to this one, Short Man!" Tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks.

Arnold and Helga had both blushed. He had offered to walk her home, so they made their way to the Pataki house. Arnold shyly slipped his hand into hers. "Just in case you don't feel good again," he said. Helga could only nod; she didn't trust her voice. His hand was so warm, and she liked the way their hands fit together.

They arrived at her stoop far too quickly. Arnold walked with her to the top and looked at her with a smile. "My Grandparents really like you," he said, squeezing her hand.

Helga blushed. "I like them." She looked into Arnold's eyes and saw they were the exact green as the beam at sunset. "They…they love you a lot, Arnold." She had seen it at dinner and realized, with a sharp pang, that this was missing from her own empty home. Helga didn't want him to leave her here, she wanted to run back to the boarding house. '_Stay with me tonight, Arnold, please,'_ but she knew better than to voice that desperate thought.

"Yeah, they do. I love them, too." Arnold hesitated. "I'll…I'll see you at school?" His eyes captured hers and neither could tear their gazes away from each other.

After a minute, Helga remembered to breathe. "Yeah," she said, gasping for air.

Arnold grinned a mile wide. "Bye, Helga," he said softly. Quickly, he kissed her hand and ran off of her stoop into the night. Helga stood there, holding her hand over her heart. It beat so fast, like it learned how to breathe again, too. Phil's words came back to her in a rush. _You'll know the reason. It'll hit you like a ton of bricks, just out of the blue, and it'll feel like a piece you didn't even know was missing got put back into your heart._

Suddenly, she knew the answer to her question.

….

Her pen flowed effortlessly over the page of her pink notebook:

_I'm tired of being all alone,  
>and this solitary moment<br>makes me want to come back to your home._

_'Cause I was born to tell you I love you,_  
><em>and I am torn to do what I have to make you mine.<em>  
><em>I wish you could stay with me tonight.<em>

Not bad for a first poem, she thought, looking it over.

She signed it with a flourish: _Helga G. Pataki._

_...  
><em>

Helga finished the drawing and held it up. It looked just like Arnold, all the way down to the green beams of his eyes. She smeared her drawing with the back of her hand, so Arnold's kiss would go on the paper, grabbed the poem she wrote, then walked into her closet, all the way to the back.

She hung it up on the wall, lay the notebook that contained her poem on the ground under it, and stared. Arnold's eyes looked back at her, and her stomach did a flip-flop. He would be with her on this lonely night. She took a deep breath.

"A-Arnold, I know what I was born to do. I-I was born to tell you…"here she blushed, but continued. "I was born to tell you I love you. And one day, I will."

Helga stared at the picture for another moment, then leaned in and gently kissed Arnold on the cheek.

"Goodnight, my beloved," she whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews and me go together like peas and carrots =]<strong>


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